Cracked But Not Broken
by weapon13WhiteFang
Summary: Word Prompts set to Multiple pairings of all kind, depending on the mood, word, and how random I can feel. May include heavy doses of SSHG, DM/LL, and LE/JP.
1. 07 - Distractions

**(So I found this prompt table on LiveJournal and I don't always do good at getting through all the prompts but I figured I could have fun using some of these to play around with for some of my favorite HP couples.**

**Now see most people assume I'm an automatic SSHG fan. Which I am. OTP and all that jazz. BUT I do have fun putting dear Hermione with others. And not just Hermione. I ship some weird ships. Least I'm told they're weird. I think they're fun and different and well I'm a shipping whore. I can ship anything as long as I can see something in it worth expanding and working with.**

**Sooo with that said; expect some weird couples to pop up if I do a lot of these, okay? You were warned!)**

.

.

.

**017. Distractions**

.

In England – Devon, England if you wish to be precise – there is Ottery St. Catchpole, a village with a muggle and wizarding community. The most known Wizarding family in Ottery St. Catchpole is the Weasleys and their home, The Burrow.

To Hermione, The Burrow was a fascinating building to someone not always associated with magic. The building is believed to have once been an old stone pigpen that was expanded and stretched. It has several crooked stories attached to it with five chimneys dotting the roof of the house. The building had such a crazy and out there set up that it just had to be held up magic to not topple over.

It was clustered and rather cramped at times, but a welcoming place none the less. But what really was interesting was all the rooms. To Hermione it seemed as if each room had a magical – in the figurative sense more than the literal – touch of individuality to it. The living-room with its homey and warm colors and crackling fire when it was cold and wet, the kitchen with its welcoming smells and rickety but comfortable seats around a large kitchen table, the scullery with its constant humming and clicking as load after load of clothes went through the turner and were magically pressed and cleaned. Each room is special… But it's the bedrooms that are the most interesting.

There are six bedrooms altogether. Molly and Arthur share the largest on the fourth floor. Most avoid the room unless looking for either of the adults for a question. A few steps down a small narrow hallway and a few steps up was Ron's room. Hermione was constantly in his room, use to seeing it decorated with posters of the _Chudley Cannons_, the room looking like orange had vomited all over it. It was just so… Ron that of course Hermione liked it as much she liked its owner.

On the first floor was Ginny's room. It was small, but bright and cozy and lived in. The walls were decorated with posters of the _Weird Sisters_, _The Hoptoads_ and the _Holyhead Harpies_ captain, Gwenog Jones, Ginny's hero and favorite team. Hermione had often stayed in Ginny's room to the point the lovely red head had set up a side of the room just for Hermione when she came over. Her own little space that she loved and loved Ginny for forfeiting for her.

Above Ginny, on the second floor, was Fred and George/Percy's room. Explosions were constantly heard coming from the room, and thus had a constant smell of gunpowder. Though the twins no longer lived at The Burrow – having moved into a flat above their workshop – the smell never left. All that was now left in the room was a wardrobe, a desk, and a bedside table with a lamp, along with a number of the twins products lying around that they had left behind.

The proof that Percy once owned the room was the rather bland wallpaper, the moving constellation poster that updated you on when the next meteor shower was, and a few books that Fred and George had used to level their beds. Hermione had snatched those up right away. One thing she and Percy had in common was their taste in literature and their constant vigilance with their education. When she had owled Percy about them, he'd happily let her have them, stating he was glad they were getting used.

And on the third floor was Bill and Charlie's room. Often time it was one or the others, as both were hardly ever home at the same time especially since Bill had married Fleur and moved to Shell Cottage. At the moment it was Charlie's room as he was home from Romania.

Now the most interesting room had to be the older Weasley boy's room. At least to Hermione it was. With Charlie being a Dragonologist and with having shared a room with a brother who was a trained spell breaker and a good teacher, his room – which he always redecorated right away once he was home to give it a more at home feel – had a hard to crack spell that kept one out and that often had Molly Weasley in a fit during cleaning day.

What was even more fascinating was the doorknob was a dragon head that would snap your hand or grow very hot if you were not welcomed. Again, a vain to Molly. Ron had begged his brother to put one on his door to keep Molly out, but the older sibling had stated that Molly would have both their heads and the discussion was dropped.

It was the door that had drawn Hermione to Charlie's room…. That and she had seen him pack in some very fascinating tombs he had brought back with him from Romania that she was itching to look at. Her first attempt to get into the room had of course failed and left her with a small bite mark and overly frizzed hair from magic backlash. But at nineteen, Hermione was even more stubborn than she'd been during her years at Hogwarts and tried again.

It would be three more tries before Hermione realized she needed to try a different approach. Obviously this wasn't just a spell for blocking and obviously the doorknob wasn't there to just bite people. So during the night after a failed attempted, Hermione lay in her cot late into the hours going over possible solutions in her head and muttering occasionally under her breath.

She could have always asked Charlie about the books, but she was too engrossed in trying to get the door open herself to ask. Charlie didn't seem to mind. In fact, Hermione was fairly certain he was aware of her trying to break into his room. She was certain of this because after the third try to get the door open and the dragon doorknob biting her, during breakfast Charlie had casually struck up a conversation with her about how he treats bite marks and minor stings – as the dragon doorknob had a very light sting from snake-like venom that left your hand a little numb and prickly – and had even let her try the salve he'd made on "that unusual and painful looking mark on her hand" as he'd put it. The twinkle in his blue eyes – not as bright as Dumbledore's but still knowing – had her biting down a blush and scowl as she fixed up her hand.

The next day after breakfast, Hermione excused herself from playing exploding snaps, stating she had a book she needed to fetch, before heading upstairs to Charlie's room. The redhead had been at breakfast so she only had a few minutes to try this. Reaching in her rocket, Hermione pulled out a piece of bacon. The door, its red eyes watching her, sniffed as she offered it the bacon. At first she didn't suspect it would take it, but slowly it opened its mouth and Hermione fed it the bacon. She wasn't sure how it could eat, but it seemed to be doing just that. Eating like a real dragon would.

She fed it two more pieces before carefully reaching out and letting the doorknob sniff at her hand and crouching eye level with it. "Sorry for being rough…" she said. Being rough with the doorknob obviously had gotten her nowhere. So maybe kindness and a little gesture of peace would work. Dragons were not mean creatures, really. They were just wild. They only showed hostility when they seemed threatened. And to the doorknob, Hermione was a threat with her constant yanking and poking with her wand.

The doorknob looked at her hand then her before its eye's became glasslike and its body becoming solid unmoving silver. Gently Hermione wrapped her hand around the knob and almost yelped with glee as she was not bitten or burned! She'd done it! The first part was done! Gently patting the knob in thanks, Hermione slid her wand from her pocket and looked at the door. Now all that remained was the spell on the door.

She'd done enough reading on spell breaking and spell enhancement casting to know the basics, but it seemed this particular spell didn't take to rough prods… Like the dragon. Her cinnamon brown eyes lit up and she bit her lower lip and gently began prodding at the doors defense. Gently she caressed the barrier with her own magic, gliding and slowly opening up holes in it. It was a slow process and Hermione feared any second Charlie would be up the stairs to catch her.

But eventually – finally! – the doors spell shuddered and dropped and Hermione could only stare in awe and disbelief for seconds longer than she should have before she gently grasped the doorknob and turned, pushing and smiling as the door opened, bestowing the bedroom to her.

Hermione stepped into the room and grinned. Oh wouldn't Molly be peeved to know that Charlie had used an undetectable extension charm on his room! The room was large. About the size of a muggle's average living room. One of the fireplaces of the Burrow was placed in the room and a small fire was lit, even though it was decently warm out. Hermione had noticed that Charlie seemed to like being in the warmth a lot. He was outdoorsy and tended to be out in the sun or flying around outside with his siblings and Harry.

The next thing she noticed was the decorations. His walls were covered in pictures, Gryffindor memorabilia from his time at Hogwarts, a few muggle pinup girl posters – how charming and oh so male – and even had a dragon painted onto the wall. A dragon that looked like a big Norbert! Her eyes scanned the room and found trinkets here and there from his time in Romania before they landed on a large shelf that took up the wall near the window.

Beaming, Hermione made her way over to the books she spotted right away. They were high up and going to be tricky to reach. Getting on her tippy-toes, Hermione inched up and stretched her arms, her fingers grazing the spine of the book. Her brow was furrowed and she bit down on her lip in concentration as she tried to tug the tombs down. She could've used magic to get the book, but Hermione felt that would be too lazy.

So focused on her task, Hermione almost screamed, her body stiffening as she felt something warm and hard press against her back. She felt and heard a heartbeat and froze as a muscular arm with burns and scars reached past her and grabbed at the book she'd been trying to reach. It did not pull it down, but instead let it go and grasped at her tinier hand and she felt her breath hitch as warm breath tickled her ear.

"Took ya long enough, eh 'Mione?"

His voice rumbled through her at their closeness and she let out a tiny breath and whispered "I knew it… I knew you had to know." Her heart was beating a tattoo against her ribcage as his thumb rubbed small circles on the back of her hand while his other hand trapped her against him and the shelf, pressing it against one of the shelves full of odds and nick-knacks. His warm breath sent shivers down her spine.

His deep voice chuckled and she sucked in air sharply in surprise as she felt his head lower to her neck and breathe, his breath sending goose-bumps across her skin. His body pressed hard against her, causing her to be almost flush with the shelf.

"I knew," he began as he leaned forward, his cheek nuzzling against hers and tickling her with the light stubble across his chin, "that you'd be the one to figure it out. Out of everyone, that is." Hermione's brows furrowed briefly as she opened her mouth to question what he meant by 'out of everyone' when she let out a cry of surprise as he bit down on the junction between her neck and shoulder, his teeth sinking into her flesh and his lips sucking softly before just as quickly his tongue swiped across the mark, soothing the sting. The movement of his mouth and tongue sent a jolt from her chest, down to the pit of her stomach and to her loins, her breathing hitching.

"C-Charlie?" she whimpered questioningly, her nails digging into the shelf as his mouth nibbled on her exposed flesh. "I knew you'd figure it out," he repeated, his tongue making lazy zigzags up to her ear lobe and nibbling on the flesh softly, the hand that had been holding her arm up began running up and down her arm's length soothingly as her nails dug into the wood of the shelf.

"You know how I knew?" he asked, and all she could do is give a tiny whimper and she felt him smile against her neck as his hand left her arm and went to her hip, slowly inching around to her stomach, which was now doing summersaults with butterflies.

"I knew because only the right one could open it," he whispered into her ear, his voice slightly gruffer as he tugged and pulled her shirt up to place his hand on her bare flesh. Her skin felt on fire from his touch and she felt her muscles tighten. She really wasn't sure why she was letting him do this.

Although she knew Charlie as well as the other Weasley's now, that didn't mean she wanted anything with him, right? Hadn't she left her Weasley phase after her and Ron didn't work out? She vaguely pondered this as Charlie's hand moved up her stomach and dragged her shirt up slowly, easily with rough calloused fingers on her smoother skin. Instead of voicing for him to stop she choked out, "the right one?" Her voice sounded like a whisper, her breath leaving her in a woosh.

He hummed softly, the vibration going through her as his fingers tugged the buttons of her blouse easily as he lifted the shirt up as well, spreading the fabric and exposing skin to the air, goosebumps flittering across her skin in prickling waves. "The spell on my door," he began, his gruff voice steady if not seeping into her skin and bones like magic water from the desire she could hear in the tone, "was a spell created by a witch who locked herself away from the world. She would only… Come out for her true one, who was the only one who could open it."

He flicked the last button free and gently he tugged the blouse open more and nuzzled his cheek to her neck as he looked down over her shoulder, his warm hand gliding the tips of his fingers cross her skin and between the valley of her breast. By now Hermione could feel the full length of his desire for her pressing against her back. She whimpered as he ground himself gently against her bum. "You're my one, 'Mione," Charlie growled into her ear and she melted as he reached up and easily unclasped the front clip on her bra, exposing her breast.

He sighed and eased her clothes off her body, letting them drop to their feet as he kept her pressed against the shelf. His other hand left the shelf as both hands touched anywhere they could reach before grasping at her breast. Hermione let out a cry, her head rolling back in shock as she shuddered. What the Hell was she doing? She was standing half-naked in her best friend – former boyfriend – brother's room and letting him touch and control her.

"Charlie-!" she tried, only to cry out as his thumb and pointer finger on both hands grasped at her hardened nipples and tugged. Her mouth dropped open, her body arching into his touch as he rolled and tugged gently at her, plucking the hardening pebbles of flesh as his mouth bit and licked at her throat and shoulder, his hip grinding a little more insistently against her.

His right hand left her breast, electing a whimper until she realized the path his soft caresses were taking as he glided his fingers down, down, down-"Ah!" Hermione cried out as his hand slid down the front of her jeans and knickers, and without a bit of fumbling found her sex and pressed easily against her bundle of nerves, pressing down and drawing slow, clockwise circles.

She was embarrassed by how wet she already was, her face flushing a deeper red as he caressed between her legs and squeezed and massaged her breast, teasing the nipple. Her jeans ended up meeting the floor before she was suddenly flipped around. She gasped as her back hit the shelf.

As she adjusted to being turned around, Charlie had dropped to his knees and slid her knickers off. Hermione opened her mouth to protest and made to cover herself, when Charlie lifted her right leg over his shoulder and dived forward, his mouth finding her center and causing her to gasp and buck at the suddenness of it!

"Charlie!" she sputtered, her fingers reaching to grasp at the wood of the shelf for support as he lifted her left leg and threw it over his shoulder, leaving her hovering above the ground, his hands on her thighs and bum as his tongue lapped at her sex, prodding and teasing her clit. She threw her head back, thumping it against the shelves as her mouth dropped open and her eyes were wide. Her breathing came in slow, hungry gulps for air as she quivered. "Oh, Circe," she whimpered as his tongue sent wave after wave of pleasure through her body and up her spine.

With each swipe of his tongue, any thought of trying to end whatever was happening was washed away. It had been months since someone had touched her like this. Ron hadn't been a bad lover, but he'd never made her feel this wet and disoriented. Perhaps it was because it had been so long that she was feeling this good… Or perhaps it was just because, right now, Charlie was way too good with his tongue.

Whatever it was, she didn't want it to stop.

"Charlie!" she whimpered, one hand finding his stubble of hair and gripping at it to keep him in place, the other still trying to keep herself balanced. She stared down at him through lidded eyes and saw his blue eyes look up at her and felt herself grow even wetter at the lust she saw in his own eyes. Her hips moved of their own accord, grinding against his mouth and her legs twitching, their eyes locked as he gave her a mischief smirk and moved his tongue painstakingly slow. She mewled in protest, her head flying back as her whole body quivered.

She tried to move her hips to speed up the pace, but he grabbed them tightly and held her in place, his tongue moving languish like between her folds, teasing her core and lightly crushing against her clit. It was maddening. Months of unrealized sexual frustration began to bubble inside her as she panted and cursed unladylike, her nails digging into his scalp.

His mouth left her core and she whined in protest, only to gasp as his index and middle finger replaced his tongue, his calloused thumb making small, easy circles on her clit as he licked up her body, keeping her suspended above the ground until his mouth was at her breast, nipping and biting at her hardened peaks. She tried to buck against his invading digits, but his left hand kept her pinned and unmoving. She cried out and her arms wrapped around his shoulders as his mouth found hers. She could taste herself on his lips and tongue as it invaded her mouth.

Something that should have appalled her only seemed to fuel her arousal and need for release. "C-Charlie… Pleaasee," she whined as his mouth left hers and he kissed along her jawline to her ear. "Tell me what you want, 'Mione," he whispered, his voice deep and husky and wild for her. His fingers continued their painstakingly slow pace, teasing her to the edge but holding her back. She panted and tried to thrust against his fingers, tears prickling her eyes as she truly felt she was being driven mad by his slow work. "Ch-charlie, Please! I-I can't, I-" she struggled through the lust filled haze of her mind, for once in her life feeling completely lost on what she wanted, what she knew she needed.

Charlie's fingers dipped and teased at her core, his thumb continuing the lazy circle his fingers had taken. She groaned as her walls tightened, trying to gain their release. "Tell me, 'Mione," Charlie growled, rocking his body in rhythm with his own thrusting fingers. Hermione threw her head back, baging it hard against the shelf as she cried. "Oh, Circe! C-Charlie please! I-I can't! I can't- Make me cu-" she was unable to finish as Charlie's fingers curled and hit just the right spot as he pumped and pressed against _that _spot and she screamed, her release eminent as wave after wave she was brought down from a high she'd never experience.

Charlie kept up with her spuratic movements, his fingers never slowing down, even as she felt herself milked dry. She wanted, her skin located with a light sheet of sweat as she stared up at him with lidded eyes. Her body thrummed as he leaned down and captured her lips in a hungry, demanding kiss. She met with languishing strokes of her own tongue, so blissful feeling that she almost screamed in shock at the feel of Charlie's harden manhood glide against her folds. She had not noticed that he had tugged off his belt and kicked off his jeans. Had not realized he'd thrown his vest aside and was standing before her as naked as the day he was born.

He grabbed her arms and threw them over his shoulder, her face burying into his shoulder and her legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. She groaned as she felt him prod at her womanhood. "Say it, Hermione," he whispered in her ear, gliding his cock along her folds. Hermione's breath hitched and she grinded her hips. "Charlie… Charlie," she whined, bucking as a new wave of need overtook her. "Fu-fuck me!" she grit out at the feel of his head grinding against her clit, no longer embarrassed for such rauncy words.

Charlie groaned and with a light adjustment, evened himself with her opening and bucked his hip, Hermione crying out as he penetrated her deep with one strong stroke of his hips. Her walls clamped down hungrly on him as she clawed at his back, her legs tightening around his waist as he back was pressed into the rough wood of the shelves. The slight discomfort she felt at first was easily washed away as Charlie began to thrust, his hips jerking back and pivoting forward, burying himself over and over into her wet core, their bodies slapping loudly against each other.

"Oh God… Oh God.." Hermione panted with each stroke as he brought her closer and closer to the edge. Her heels dug into his back and Hermione groaned as Charlie bit at her neck, sucking and biting, intending to leave his mark. She'd always hated when Ron had left hickies on her, but with Charlie pounding into her the sensation and the marking was a turn on. So much that Hermione let her nails drag down his shoulders and back, marking him.

"God, 'Mione," Charlie growled into her ear as her nail dug down to his hips, grabbing at his arse and dragging him forward and faster with as much strength as she could muster, her body tingling and focused on the pleasure of his cock burying inside her. She responded with a mewl of pleasure and Charlie seemed to snap, letting go and slamming into her so hard he was shaking the contents of his shelf and rocking it back and forth.

Neither cared, though, as she focused on just him and the pleasure. Her body thrashed and sputtered and his movements became wild and jerking. "Charlie… Charlie… Chhaarrlliiee!" Hermione cried out as – without warning – she met her release, screaming and burying her face into his shoulder. With a few rough jerks of his hips he soon followed, spilling himself inside her and electing a moan and cry of surprise from her, nails digging into his shoulders, his hungry mouth smashing against her own as he continued to thrust until every drop was spend.

When all became too much, Charlie easily carried her to his bed and crashed, hovering over her and panting. She had hated when Ron would fall on-top of her, but Charlie felt warm and safe, his muscles rippling as he panted and curled over her protectively. Her cinnamon brown eyes – glazed with pleasure – found his glazed blue eyes and she gave a tired, shy smile.

He chuckled and bent down to kiss her gently before rolling to the side and bringing her with him, spooning them together as he snapped his fingers, his door making a clicking sound. "The door wasn't locked!" she gasped out, trying to sit up, only to be dragged back down. "Nobody could get in," he drawled, burying his face in the top of her head, sniffing her hair and sighing. Hermione blushed but smiled as well.

"Someone had to have heard us," she tried, feeling her eyelids flutter as Charlie cupped her breast and lazily rolled her nipples between his calloused fingers. "And?" he growled playfully, earning a scowl as she tried to turn and smack his arm. He laughed instead and wrapped his arms tight around her. "Get some sleep, 'Mione. Nobody heard. And if they did, it would only be Bill and he'd say "about damn time" and leave on with it," Charlie mumbled. Hermione tried to feel annoyed at his casual throwing away of his brother hearing them but found herself to tired and spent to protest.

She closed her eyes and listened to Charlie's breathing and his heartbeat. "Sleep, Hermione… Round two is soon," Charlie mumbled suggestively and Hermione's own heart speed up briefly at the thought of another go but tiredness overtook and she slipped off to sleep.

**R & R Plz**

**Seriously R & R! I want yer opinions! Plllleeassee! Thanks!**

**(Also... Sorry for my horrible grammar lol. I tried!)**


	2. Of Hate

**(I have no fucking clue what this is... Just role with me on it lol. The couple is SSHG and this isn't one of the prompts but I couldnt get this out of my head so I just kinda wrote it and it's probably very garbled and nonsensical but it's a thing so here ya go!**

**Feel free to be confused and throw tomatoes at me. Kay? Kay!)**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Of Hate**

**.**

"I hate you."

She said these words often enough, sitting on _His _couch, wearing the dirty white sheet _He _picked out, and staring down at the cup of tea _he _made. She said these words often... But never out loud. She wasn't sure why she was saying them now. For almost a year now she'd been quiet, her fight long ago broken by the power of the restraint he had on her magic and mind – that damn magical contract she was forced to sign was the cause – that made her almost dead.

She'd not spoken a word for three months. Not even when he asked her a question. She'd simply look at him and he'd snarl and try to get her to speak. He'd grab her face, he'd shove her, he'd degrade her with his words... But surprisingly he never struck her. He might as well. She was his property, now. She didn't accept it. She didn't like it. But she knew that she was what she was. She was a witch (wand or no wand), she was a slave (that damn slip of paper!), and she was property (damn Voldemort... Harry... Ron... Damn, him!).

He was... kind, she supposed. Oh he was harsh, cruel, and gruff. He belittled her and made her labor about for him in the cold dungeon with paper-thin shoes and the sheet thin dress. And he had used her as a dumby for potions. Nothing to bad, surprisingly, but not pleasant either. But compared to the others like him, he was kind.

He turned to her slowly, his face as impassive as ever. He kept his hair back while here, tied out of his face as it was longer and could be a bother. His face was still as harsh as ever, though. And his black eyes were as piercing and cold as ever. "Ah. I see you can still speak, Granger," he drawled, a brow ticking up before she looked back down at the tea she always refused to drink yet he always made for her.

She felt and heard him move closer. She always could, now. Being around him often enough helped that. He moved so smooth and quietly it had been hard for her to keep up with. But almost a year later, it became an instinct and her own surviving mechanism. She could see the bottom of his robe and his feet as he stood over her. She still didn't look away from the tea sitting calmly before her.

"You need to eat," he drawled and as he turned away from her she found the words leaving her mouth again. "I hate you," the words came stronger this time, louder even. He stopped and this time she did look up, her expressionless eyes watching him. His back was rigid and straight and she watched his hands come to his side. She did not flinch as he turned to look at her, his expression showing furry behind a mask of indifference.

Instead she let her mouth go again, and the words spilled out. "i hate you... I hate you.. .I hate you... You've killed me!" her voice began to rise and she could feel hysteria overtaking her but she did not move from the couch or look away from his form. "You've killed me! You've killed me! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you! I hope you die! I hope you die painfully! I hate you!" she was screaming and her body was shaking violently but she did not stand or look away from him, her face wet with tears she had been unaware she was shedding.

His expression cracked and he stepped towards her. His hand made for her and she snapped, scuttling and jumping over the couch, doing everything to keep his touch away from her. "I hate you! I hate you!" she continued through sobs. "We trusted you! I stood up for you! I hate you! They're dead! They're all dead! You killed them! You're killing me!" Her words were a screech and she slammed back against the wall as he was able to grab her, his eyes alight with rage as he grabbed her and pinned her against the wall, lifting her slightly off the ground.

She didn't care, though. She screamed. Any strength she had, she pushed and she screamed and she felt, for the first time in a long time, magic pulse through her and shove at him. He threw up a wandless shield but she could feel them crashing against each other and her eyes widened as suddenly his hands were around her throat, cutting off her scream.

His eyes bore into hers as her arms went slack – having been clawing at his arms to let her go – and fell to her side. "I... hate...you," she croaked as he applied pressure... And she cried. She heaved and cried, choking from the slight pressure and her hysterical short breaths. She waited then for him to choke her, to kill her. Why stop now? He was already-

Her thoughts were cut off as he instead pulled her into his arms and... Held her? Her brain almost shut down in pure shock before she struggled. His grip around her tightened and she heard him grunt and hiss as she thrashed and clawed and elbowed him, trying to scramble free. She screamed and cried more, her body shuddering from the force. She screamed until she couldn't anymore. She cried until she felt raw and then she became perfectly still.

For what could have been minutes or hours – she didn't know as she lost track of time long ago – went by before she heard and felt him rumble so low that even as close as they were, she almost couldnt make it out. "Forgive me... I failed everyone... Forgive me, please."

His body shook beneath hers. He had crashed to his knbees with her and was holding her uncomfortable tight. She choked on a need to laugh hysterically. Forgive him? Forgive... Him? "Never," she croaked nad dug her nails into his chest. "I.. hate you," she choked out. His right arm moved and she felt the tip of his wand suddenly at her forehead.

Now he'll finally kill her? She hoped so. She was dead anyway. Why stop now? "Do it," she croaked. He stiffened before- "Obliviate..."

**R & R Plz? Thanks!**

.


End file.
